Waiting
by JennyWren
Summary: And I? I was standing on the balcony of the de Chagny estate, peering through the window of their bedroom. Oneshot, M for a reason


**Waiting **

**Autor´s note:** This story is rated M for a reason. It deals with a man and a woman making love while a third person watches them (So it´s M/F Het, Voy, SoloM, for those of you familiar with story codes.) If you´re uncomfortable with those topics, feel free to leave. But don´t say I hadn´t warned you.

**Dedication: **I dedicate this story to **Black Priestess**, whose constant nagging… erm, I mean, whose constant encouragement has made me write it. And of course to **Val**, my ever faithful beta. Sorry I made you gasp…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters from "The Phantom of the Opera". They belong to Gaston Leroux / Andrew Lloyd Webber.

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It was all wrong. The whole situation was but a twisted parody of how it should have been. I should have held Christine in my arms, kissing, caressing, loving her. She should have returned those gestures, glancing up at me in adoration. And the Vicomte… he should have burned in Hell. Why hadn´t I killed him as long as I had still had the chance to do so?

A single kiss had changed so much. I had let them go, silently vowing that I´d never harm him, just because he was the man she loved. And what had been my reward? They had married the same night, while I had been hiding in a secret chamber of my house, watching people turn everything upside-down in their stupid, pointless search for me. They hadn´t found me, of course they hadn´t, but that had only made them more furious. My home had been destroyed, and I hadn´t been able to do anything about it.

I felt just the same helplessness now. Again I was watching, and again something was destroyed. This time it were my last shreds of hope. It was all wrong, and still it happened. Christine and the Vicomte were in the bedroom they shared in the de Chagny estate since their wedding. And I? I stood on the balcony, peering through the window. On a normal occasion they might have seen me, but today they were much too busy with themselves. The slightly open window even allowed me to hear them, which only made things worse.

"I thought you´d never return home.", Christine was just saying. "I was so bored all day. I had nothing to do but read and maybe go for a walk…" I could clearly see that she was pouting, her lovely lips like a blossoming flower. The Vicomte didn´t waste any time and took her into his arms, giving her a long kiss. As I heard the smacking sounds, my own tongue darted out and moistened my lips, that had suddenly gone very dry.

My gaze was glued to the window when he picked her up from the floor and placed her on the bed swiftly. As if he had to be afraid that she´d run away… ridiculous! The moment he had let go of her she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down for yet another kiss. "I´ve wanted to do this for such a long time.", Christine told him. "You only had to wait since this morning. That´s hardly a long time.", he informed her, chuckling softly. I gave a soundless groan. Wasn´t it enough to know that they made love at all? Was it necessary to talk about how often they did it?

"Anyway, it was too long.", she said. "I missed you. I missed the touch of your hands and the feeling of your lips and of your…" Giggling she made a vague gesture downwards. "Now that´s something we can change quickly!", he whispered, moving to lie on his side. Then he seized her hand and brought it to the junction of his legs. I was shocked. How dared he be this bold? Would it have been so hard to ask first?

Yet Christine didn´t seem to mind. Instantly she began to rub him through the fabric of his trousers. The Vicomte gave a slight moan and straightened up a little, so that he could kiss her again. This time I didn´t look at their faces, though. The movement of her hand was far more fascinating. Up and down… up and down… it was almost hypnotising me. And not only my mind was affected by it. My manhood was stirring, growing...

Automatically I reached down, trying to make it calm down again. But my hand didn´t follow my head´s orders. It started stroking the soft fabric behind which my member was hidden, which in turn grew even more. Everything was wrong. The sight of the one love of my life pleasuring another man should have made me disgusted, not aroused. I should have walked away. But of course I didn´t.

At least I managed to look up from her hand a few moments later. The top of her dress was just being opened, so that she had to stop her activity anyway. Her husband seemed to enjoy undressing her for he did it very slowly. More and more of her crème-coloured corset was revealed. Now my hand came to a halt as well. I had never seen that much of Christine and didn´t want to miss anything.

Apparently she was more impatient than he. Quickly she slipped out of the sleeves, pulled down the top and finally stood up to shake off the dress completely. When she leaned down slightly to reach the hooks of her corset I was greeted with a very nice view of her cleavage. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest as she unlaced the corset nimbly and let it fall to the floor. I drank in the sight of her. The thin chemise hardly disguised her lovely body. She seemed to have put on a little weight during the last months, probably due to her boredom and the cook´s hearty meals. Yet it suited her very well. She had lost the skinniness so many dancers had and looked more like a woman, with shapely hips and a slim waist.

Slowly, as if I wanted to save the best part till last, I let my gaze wander upwards… and inhaled sharply. Her breasts were perfect – full and round and tipped with nipples just a shade darker than her lips. I´d have given anything for being able to touch them, to run my hands over the soft mounds and watch gooseflesh erupt under my fingers… It seemed that I´d at least get the latter part, for the boy had similar intentions. His long arms were wrapped around Christine´s waist, and he pulled her down onto the bed again.

Now she was lying on her back while he kneeled over her. They shared another kiss, then his mouth wandered downwards. Obviously growing impatient as well he tugged at her chemise till the fabric gave way and ripped. His tongue circled one of her nipples, and finally his lips closed around it. If I had been jealous before, it was nothing compared to how I felt now. Christine was producing the most lovely gasps and moans, and I wanted nothing more than being the one she made those sounds for. But I wasn´t. "Oh Raoul…", she breathed when he brought his mouth to her other breast while his hand continued caressing the first one.

Watching them was painful. But what else could I do? Go home and spend all night imagining what they were doing, maybe even topped by a pathetic attempt to create the same pleasure with my own hands? No. Then I could as well stay and… and do it here. With grim resolution I opened my trousers and pulled out my manhood. It had grown soft again during the minutes in which I had left it in peace, but a few skilled strokes later it stood fully erect.

Little shivers of excitement ran down my spine as I looked through the window again and realised that it was just the right moment. The Vicomte was just taking off his underwear, the only piece of clothing he had left on. Christine was glancing up at him with just the admiration I longed to see. Of course I knew it wasn´t directed at me, but in my imagination it was. My member gave a slight twitch, and I wrapped my hand around it more firmly.

"Don´t make me wait any longer!", Christine called, and by now I shared her opinion. In my advanced state of arousal I no longer cared that it was him and not me; I just wanted to see it happening. Fortunately he complied readily, moving between her thighs at once. She seized his manhood, which, as I noticed with some satisfaction, was by no means bigger than mine, and led it to her entrance.

He pushed himself into her, and all three of us gave loud moans. The hand stroking my manhood sped up to match the rhythm he was establishing quickly. The tension mounted with every moment, with every gasp. I had to grip the balustrade of the balcony for support as I felt my release approach with the speed of lightning. Frantically I thrust into my hand… just a little more… more…

"Erik? Erik!" Slowly I opened my eyes and smiled dreamily as I heard a soft voice. And then I saw her, her face inches away from mine. "Christine?", I whispered, reaching up to cup her cheek. She didn´t dissolve. She was real. "Why did you wake me up?", I asked. "You were breathing all heavy and groaning so loudly that you woke me up first.", she explained. "And I also noticed… _that_…" Looking down I saw that the blanket had slipped from our naked bodies… revealing my rather prominent erection. Grinning sheepishly I muttered: "I had that nightmare again.".

Christine gave a little sigh. "The one in which you watch Raoul and me?" I nodded. "And what do I always tell you afterwards?", she asked. "It was only a dream. It never happened in reality. You never made love to him. I was your first man, and I´ll be your last.", I replied like a good pupil, my hand trailing up her face and into her shining hair. It felt like silk under my fingers.

"Very good.", she praised me, and I got a kiss as reward. "But I wish I knew why you´re having this dream that often. Maybe you secretly want all that to happen. I could send a message to Raoul and ask him whether he´d be interested – " "No!", I called quickly. "All I want to see is you." By now she was grinning as well. "And what would you like to see me do?", she asked innocently. "Perhaps you could do something about _that_.", I suggested, indicating my still hard manhood. Nodding she moved down my body, and I couldn´t help thinking that a few nightmares every now and then weren´t too bad if reality was like this.

**The End**


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